Resident Evil: Hand of Sorrow
by Adonis Incarnate
Summary: Months after the incident in Spain, Leon finally catches some well-deserved R&R. Meeting up with a friend in the CIA, he would meet some of the unlikely hosts while something in the background gathers to haunt him...
1. Chapter 1

**Leon Scott Kennedy**

_"Where's the sound of one's impalement?"_

_"Right here, pal!"_

_Burning torches…glossy eyes…the smell of a burning back country…_

_"All for Umbrella's sake…"_

_"Wha...Umbrella!"_

_"Look's like I've said too much…DIE, COMRADE!"_

_"…Leon, I can't hold on...much longer…"_

_"ADA!"_

_"Leon, long time, no see…"_

_"B-but…I thought you died…"_

_The potent rank of rotten flesh…the moans and gurgled cries of the dead…_

My eyes shot open as I shot up in bed, a strangled cry of fear catching in my throat. 

I woke up bathed in a cold sweat, my chest tightened to the point that I began to hyperventilate, my breathing coming in harsh, ragged gasps. With my free hand, I instinctively reached for the nine-millimeter that I kept under my pillow as a form of insurance and aimed the barrel at the blank, alabaster wall before me. I was only another blink away from the pulling the trigger, feeling the wait of the cold, arched metal in my hand, my finger just grazing the catch, at the ready to fire. Whatever had triggered such a reaction was lost to me- It must have been my mind fooling me into believing that I was back in Raccoon City…or was it Europe? Dreams have that tendency to have no rhyme or reason, but I could remember everything. And I didn't want to. 

Replacing my gun, I tightly closed my eyes in a poor attempt to calm my labored breathing, growling at myself as I twisted my body around so I could plant my bare feet on the cold tile, carelessly pushing the blanket aside, the thick wool fabric now drenched in sweat. Wiping the sleep from my eyes, a fierce headache wracked my head, born of the thoughts from reliving the experience of both Raccoon City and the insanity that had occurred in Europe. It had been approximately a month since I had saved President Graham's daughter, Ashley, from the Los Illuminados, a cult under the control of infectious parasites. Did I ever thank god that day when Hunnigan sent the chopper to rescue us. A slight smile did carve into my face, though, thinking of how Ashley had 'discreetly' asked me out on a date. The last thing I needed was to get involved with the daughter of my boss. It wouldn't work out between us anyway; she wasn't my type. My mind wasn't on her at the moment; rather it was trained on Ada, the hired gun who had snatched the Las Plagas parasite sample right from under my nose. She was quite the mysterious woman, that Ada. Even at this point and time I wouldn't know what to do with her if I ever managed to get her under custody. I was so naïve then, back when I started as a cop at the RPD, the Raccoon Police Department. At the time of the Raccoon City incident, I was so focused on saving everyone that it didn't occur to me that Ada was working with Umbrella to get her hands on the G-Virus sample, to take it from Sherry's mother, one of the scientists that had assisted Birkin, the Virologist that invented it. 

'_Come on Leon,'_ I said to myself, '_Don't think about all that horse-shit now. Just calm down and enjoy your leave.'_ I was granted a well-deserved month of vacation from the CIA thanks to the President. I couldn't ask for more, in addition to the rather large bonus I received as thanks for saving a VIP. While I do enjoy having a fat bank account, I hardly have much use for it. I'm always at the office-for someone like me, there were 25 hours in each day, not 24. My personality was reflected in my house as well, starting with my bedroom. I stood up and stretched while glanced around, gazing at the simple décor that consisted of plain black curtains, a four-poster queen-sized bed with an oak night table nested next to it. The television and all other outlets of mindless entertainment were stashed in the living room because I refused to get my bedroom cluttered with them, preferring the simplicity I already had managed. 

_RingRingRingRing…RingRingRingRing…_

_'Jesus Christ…'_

My cell phone blared it's steady, annoying tone. I picked it up from the table and looked at it, the screen not displaying a name, only a number. I sighed deeply in defeat, unable to stop the flood of annoyance as it filled me. 'God help me if this is the office,' I thought with a hard grimace. 'I don't want to get questioned anymore about that fucking parasite that ran the Illuminados cult.' The rebellious side of me wanted to ignore this, to say "Fuck you, you're not interrupting my hard earned vacation!" but the strong sense of justice within me prevailed-I had to answer. It was an obligation. _You're working for the government, you could get in trouble,_ said the Mr. Justice side of me. I finally gave in, choosing the lesser of two evils and quickly answered the phone. I held the slender electronic device up to my ear and greeted my unnamed caller in my usual monotone voice, "Kennedy…"

"Leon!" came a very familiar voice, the tone obviously cheery. My foul mood caused me to want to mimic that of this stranger, but I found myself unable to do so; I still didn't know who it was I was speaking to. "Hey...you?" I replied, doing my best to sound slightly enthused but keeping the tone of question apparent in my voice. The stranger scoffed and said curtly, "I figured you wouldn't remember me, bro. It's Seth! I heard you were in town!" Seth…that name echoed in the depths of my mind before it resurfaced and registered. He was one of the people I had worked with. We had gone through several scenes together and worked pretty well as a team, too. I hadn't heard from him in quite sometime, even before my excursion to Europe. I made my way into my bare bathroom and started to gather up the few hygiene products I had there before I finally responded, "Holy hell, it's been a while. What's up?"

"I could ask you the same. Heard you got the pleasure in going to save the President's daughter! That's some hot shit, man! Hotter then some of the jobs I've done." Seth replied, his words followed by a short chuckle. I couldn't tell if his words were meant as insult or compliment, but for the moment, I accepted it as praise, even though that horrific experience was nothing to be envied for. But that's how Seth was, a go-getter, much like myself. "Well, it was more of an investigation, but after realizing the situation, I was flying solo with some chopper support. Unfortunately one of the birds got shot down by an RPG and we lost Mike," I continued, unable to hide the slight wave of depression that laced my words as I recalled the terrible memory. It was great having someone helping me out, providing me with possibly the greatest cover I've ever received, only to tragically get shot down by a sharp explosion of a rocket-propelled grenade. There was an awkward silence between us for a brief moment before Seth finally responded, sounding forlorn at the news. "Damn, so that's what happened? I'm sorry." I shook my head as if he would see the gesture and replied, "Its okay, his family obviously isn't taking his passing well, but what can you do?" Then, out of no-where, Seth burst out excitedly, "I know, Leon! Let's just go out, the two of us! You sound like you've become a hermit and you know Mike wouldn't want that. Let's make this night dedicated to him by going out and having some fun!" And once Seth started his keyed up rant, stopping him was damn near impossible. He mentioned some back-road placed called Charlie's at one point in his endless babbling and how explained how they had good drinks and a few pool tables there. I could always go for a round or two of pool. 

So after what little convincing it took for him to have me join him in his nightly escapade, we set up a little rendezvous at this bar. Hell, it sounded like something laid-back and casual, so I decided to reflect the scene by wearing the same sort of style. It's not like I was out to impress anyone-that was never my intention. As I glanced at the tiny excuse of a mirror before me, the shining glass reflected a well-built man with dark hair, slightly highlighted throughout with golden-brown, almost blonde strands that fell to my chin. I stood there lacking my shirt and glanced over my defined chest, eying the left of my apex with wincing eyes, a horrible scar that didn't quite heal up as it should have and served as a constant, grim reminder of what I had experienced. It was the result of a gun-shot wound, caused by a bullet that missed my heart and lung by mere inches. I slowly let my finger touch the uneven skin that decorated it, a harsh reminder of the Raccoon City. I could vividly remember going through that metallic hallway that broken off to the left at one point, but instead I had continued forward. Ada, in her crimson dress, was in front of me and spun around, facing the branching hallway. Her once passive face then was taken over by an expression of shocked paralysis as numerous bullets whipped passed her in horrible succession. I dashed towards her and dove, tackling her away from the gunner's view but that didn't deter them from their goal. At that moment, I felt the bullet puncture through the vest and dig into my chest, parting tissue and flesh as it drove home, the pain wracking my being without mercy. I would later discover that it was Annette, Sherry's mother, who was responsible for the attack. I held nothing but painful reminders about me. Hell, if one looked closely at my right cheek, they could easily point out a faded scar from when I was cut by Krauser's knife during that Euro-incident. Luckily, it was only a small sliver and not a horrible gash like the one on Krauser's face had been. He had gotten that when he joined the CIA, the same time I had, but to this day, I never knew how he had gotten such a scar.

After brushing my teeth and fixing my hair in its usual style, letting it hang loosely about my face, I grabbed the most casual outfit in my wardrobe I could find: a navy blue button up collared shirt and a slightly worn pair of long jeans along with a pair of black leather boots. I would have to call Seth again before I headed out to the rendezvous point. In my current mindset, a drink or two sounded like just what the doctor had ordered, but I didn't want to get hammered. I hate the feeling of not being in control of what I say and do; just a few shots and that'll be that. I quickly dressed, leaving the top most button undone just because I liked the feel of the spring breeze billowing past me. Alright, it was only an excuse I had to show off, but a little sex appeal never hurt anyone. Besides, I looked stylish like that. The shirt I had decided on wasn't too baggy or too tight, and the jeans just had that perfect fit. Again, being comfortable is key here, and I believed that I had achieved just that. Grabbing the lightly populated keychain that held my house key and the keys to my Wrangler, I walked out, stuffing my age-old cell-phone in my pocket. I had to keep that on me, it served not only as a personal line but doubled also as my business phone. And since it was nearly always on my person, I prayed over and over that no one from the office would call me and say, "Sorry, Kennedy, but we need you now!" Thankfully, that hasn't happened yet, and I hope to keep it that way. 

The plan was for Seth to meet there, so he gave me the directions once more via my phone before I hopped into my shadow gray Wrangler. I had to replace the other one that I drove to Raccoon City with. Grabbing your Jeep wasn't exactly top priority when you have a crowd of zombies rushing you from all sides. I had to thank the government for replacing the vehicle for a newer one once I found out my insurance wouldn't cover it due to 'Rioting Damage'. Complete bullshit, huh?

I arrived at Charlie's without any trouble. It looked pretty spiffy on the outside and upon entering, it was equally appealing. It had that old Western feel to it, with a wooden bar and flooring to match, a juke box against a far wall near a bunch of well-kept pool tables. At that moment, I immediately caught eye of the short, faded charcoal-hair and tan skin of Seth as he waved me down, his lips pulled back into his usual broad smile. He was a big guy too, all muscle, and he certainly had a brain to back up the brawn. I myself preferred a more slender, athletic look in oppose to such a big build. He was dressed in baggy black jeans and a shirt much like my own, only gray and unbuttoned, proudly displaying his beloved ankh tattoo, the bold black ink centered in the middle of his bare chest. As I walked up to him, a wave of second-hand smoke quickly invaded my nose. Why hadn't I notice it earlier? _Because it reminds you so much of the damn office,_ I reminded myself as I tried to mask the groggy feeling that had over taken me at that instant. I don't smoke, but the place was fermented in the thick clouds of the second-hand cancer causer. When I approached Seth, he grabbed hold of a pool stick and tossed it to me. I grabbed it effortlessly, sizing it up for a second before turning my attention to my friend. "So, how's the CIA treating ya? Better then me, I hope." Seth said conversationally as he grabbed the chalk cube and rubbed it on the respective end of his stick. As he did this, I grabbed for the pool balls and neatly loaded them into the triangular rack that stood atop the soft green felt. "Save the work talk for the office. I'm on vacation at the moment," I replied in a half-grunt as I finished sorting the pool balls into their respective order. "But let's just say, my first day on the job was just as hellacious as it was back on the force in Raccoon." Hearing about my experience in the Raccoon Incident had always intrigued Seth and as bad as it sounded, I happily leeched off of his compliments to boost my ego. I would be lying to you if I said I wasn't fond of the attention this afforded me. Sometimes, when I think back to it, I couldn't help but feel proud, but my lesser half always reminds me, in a mocking fashion, '_That's the only reason why the CIA hired you, Leon. Because you survived a good ten-plus hours of zombies, monsters and unspeakable horrors and emerged with your sanity in tact. That's a feat in itself.'_

"I still can't believe Umbrella was behind all that." Seth said in a near whisper. '_I could,'_ was what I longed to say in response, but I opted to keep my mouth shut. I mean, it was a bit suspicious to begin with that the Umbrella Corp. sponsored a whole city to be built and see that its residents were taken care of by providing free health-care. Again, an example of irony at it's best. It couldn't have been a better cover for a black market company who through their sly methods, had managed to gain the trust of the public. I replied curtly, "That's what ninety-percent of the Raccoon Police Department said to the S.T.A.R.S. Team that survived that Spencer Estate incident. I was part of the small percent that held some faith in them." After organizing the set, I lifted up the rack carefully and tossed it to another vacant table. I gestured for him to break first, inviting him to make the first move in this game. As he aimed carefully at the white cue ball, I rubbed the chalk on the tip of the stick, like a warrior shining his sword in preparation for battle. "It must have been horrible not having the whole precinct believe in you, even with all the murder reports near the mountains…the Arklay Mountains, right?" Seth asked and as he hit the first shot, breaking the careful formation. I watched the balls fly in different directions, the first to sink in being a striped ball. Good, I was solids. 

"Yeah, that was where the Spencer Estate was located. It was later discovered that it was the guard dogs, a bunch of Dobermans that were infected with the T-virus, were the caused of the mauling," I replied as I plotted where to take my first shot from, eying where the cue ball stood. Seth had leaned up against the wall to watch me and he continued his talk, never missing a beat on the questions, much like an interested student. "So, what happened to the S.T.A.R.S. members? We both know that Raccoon was blown up, thanks for our well-loved government." Sarcastic as he was, it was the truth in this society. It was a love-hate relationship between the government and its citizens. Before I answered, I took my aim at the cue ball and gave a sharp hit, making it bounce off a stripe that knocked into two solids, which ended up landing in two different pockets successfully. I smiled at him in repose, but he only grinned. "You didn't call double, Leon. My turn." Seth announced with confidence as he stood up from the wall. '_Fuck him and the rules',_ I told myself as I laughed lightly, enjoying myself in spite of everything. It was a steady competition between Seth and I, but I never did stick fully to the rules. Besides, it always ended up me as the victor anyway. I think Seth was being modest in his skills and letting me win, but either way, I would give him a run for his money. "So," Seth began again as he casually glanced at the pool table, my eyes resting on the situation on the table as well, studying the layout intently. "What exactly happened to them?"

I began to contemplate his question and I dazed out for a moment while recollecting. My eyes closed in thought and my lips spoke as the words came from memory. "Well, I know for certain that Chris had found his sister, Claire, (whom I survived the Raccoon incident with) somewhere near the European Facilities. Then the last remaining S.T.A.R.S. members headed out to the Russian facility and wiped out the last bit of existence that was Umbrella. The only problem was," I heard the cue-ball hit several others and I opened my eyes to watch the movement, "The main computer that held all the research data was wiped clean. We're not sure if it was compromised or what." I laughed as I realized that Seth didn't get any of his targets in. He fixed me with a mild glare and reclaimed his place up against the wall. "I remember that," Seth said as I began to survey the table once more to decide where I would take my shot, "The Russian government was pissed at them because they didn't get the green light to go. They were on our ass for weeks!" I shrugged as I caught sight of the front doors open from the corner of my eye. Through the entrance, in poured a Lady Train, all decked out and primed to perfection. I had always found it amusing how the female species hunt in packs whether it was intentional or not. I would give all four of them props for looking good tonight, but who really caught my eye was the younger looking one of the bunch, whose choice of clothing was down right modest in comparison to that of her peers, whom I assumed were either siblings, or close friends. Even as covered up as she was, she looked good while doing it. Anyone can tell how someone is even by something as trivial as how one is dressed, and looking at this woman now, one could easily tell she respected herself in every sense of the word. I immediately took my next shot, knocking in three more solids into the corner and side pockets. Despite that lucky move, my attention was else where, but I did catch Seth's low grunt in disapproval and agitation. "What the fuck!" Seth nearly screamed as he watched, his lips screwed up into a small frown of feigned insult . I smiled at Seth and shrugged, "Lucky shot, I guess. Your turn since I didn't call Triple or what-the-hell-ever it is." With another teasing glare, he took up his position at the head of the pool table as I took my place against the wall and watched as Seth tried to think of a new approach to win. 

"Well, what happened to you in Europe? Heard you were close to Spain? Is it nice there?" Seth asked now, as he positioned his stick once again, assessing different angles from a variety of viewpoints. I sighed as I lightly leaned on my stick. I really didn't want to get into such a sensitive subject, but I know if I completely ignored it, Seth would annoy the shit out of me until he got an answer. He would have to wait on that for now; I really didn't feel like revisiting what transpired just a month ago. "You'll have to wait on that one, Seth. I'll tell you this much: If you like the country, you'll love it there; cow shit and hay-stacks everywhere." I laughed lightly as Seth made his next shot. What a clumsy ass! He had gotten a good bunch in, including several of mine. All I had left was the eight ball while he still had two more remaining to worry before he would be on my level. We both looked at each other and I just shrugged with a sly smile. He gave his guttural grunt of displeasure and moved to lean against the wall as I took careful aim at the eight ball. As I mentally measured the angle and distance from the table-side view, I couldn't help but notice two of the women from the group that had entered a short while approaching, the older of the two staring at me with unabashed interest, the other being the one who had caught my eye before, even from a distance. It was obvious that the older one was more confident in herself; she gave me a very nice smile with those ruby lips while the younger one was in somewhat awe, like a school girl seeing her admirer face-to-face. I couldn't help the wide smile that rose to my lips and tapped my stick in the direction of the left corner pocket, giving a deft shot that made the eight-ball go clean in. As the older one whispered words that even I couldn't discern, she walked over to where I stood with a proud strut. But my attention was focused on the younger one, seeing her face quickly shift to an almost jealous glare that could easily be mistaken for silent hatred before lapsing into a visible longing, an almost depressed glitter visible in those soft hazel eyes. Being in the CIA, one tended to notice these kinds of things easily, which always helped in the interrogation room. 

The older one sauntered her way up to me and it was difficult not to notice the way her pink tank-top hugged her ample breasts, the low cut fabric revealing a nice portion of cleavage, a tribal sun ring tattoo circling the belly-button of her slender waist. She came closer to me and gently grazed her white-tipped manicured nails over the exposed flesh of my arms as she brought her lips to my ear and whispered in a voice that was sweet enough to cause a cavity, "Hey there, gorgeous. Mind leaving this game for a quick dance? I'm sure you can handle me just as good as you handle that pool stick, sugar." I couldn't help but grin at her flattery, but my eyes were still locked on the younger woman, who was now walking away while digging through her purse. This woman that was suggestively rubbing my chest and fixing me with a charming smile smelled like peaches and she was a sight for sore eyes. I'd have to give her some credit for that, but despite her obvious desire for me, if I was going to talk to anyone, it would be Miss Red, the girl who had just walked out. I decided to play nice and charm her into turning her attention to Seth, who had a fondness for women like this one. 

"I'll have to pass on this one, babe." I replied, "But I'm sure my buddy Seth here wouldn't mind getting to know a woman like you. And between you and me," I then spoke in a low whisper, "He a much better dancer than me. I'm sure he could handle you better too. Now, if you'll excuse me." I gently pushed her away as I glanced at Seth, who gave me a wide, wolfish grin. I'm not sure of what her reaction to my gentle rejection were because that was when I began to make my way to the exit. As I walked off I yelled to Seth, "Just call me later, bro. We'll play again."

By the time I reached the exit, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Seth already making his move on the Miss Tribal, who had a look of disappoint playing on her painted up face that I almost felt guilty for…_almost. _I exited the smoke-filled building and welcomed the breath of fresh air that filled my lungs as I stepped out into the night. I coughed a few times to rid myself of the smoke that had trailed me outside and looked around for the red-head. She hadn't gone far, she was sitting on a bench with a book in her hand, her eyes scanning back and forth through the words, flipping the pages every minute or so. She was a fast reader. That itself told me she was a bit more educated then most. Many people would beg to differ, but they couldn't deny that known fact. Without drawing any attention to myself, I claimed the seat next to her, but not too close; I didn't want her to feel threatened, or feel as if I was invading her personal space. Plus, I wanted to have enough room to react incase she decided to ward me off with a harsh slap.

The first thing to do when you talk to a woman is to state an obvious fact, that way you can get her attention. But I couldn't do that to her; she would know better. After examining the situation a bit more and piecing together the puzzle that was laid before me, I had to make my obvious statement, knowing that it was a rather pathetic attempt to catch her attention, but not being able to think of another approach. "It must be pretty uncomfortable watching your friends hit on other guys and you not getting any of the attention. There isn't a need to be passive, Miss." I had to make it personal, that's what would intrigue women because they were _personal_ creatures. Whether it is in a pure relationship or a simple one-night stand, it had to satisfy them on a personal level no matter how committed they were. And in order to delve into that personal abyss, I had to feed into it to make the fire bigger, so to speak. Not many men could understand that in this day and age. Hell, even I still have trouble with it sometimes. Is that what broke up marriages and whatnot, because of no clarification and misunderstanding? I would never know.

'_Let's just hope she even looks your way.'_


	2. Chapter 1 Part 2

**Luciana Di Saronno**

A shrill, high pitched ring roused me from a deep, dreamless sleep, causing me to groan loudly in irritation at being disturbed. Unable to see beneath the cover of darkness, I fumbled blindly around on the night table that stood alongside my bed for my cell phone, the soft flash of the metallic blue screen striking my eyes as I brought the device close, attempting to read the name of my unexpected caller. My vision still blurred from sleep, I flipped open the phone and held it to my ear, muttering a quick greeting in a harsh tone of obvious annoyance.

"Luciana! Get your ass out of bed and get dressed! The girls are going to Charlie's in about half an hour for our usual girl's night out on the town. I'll be there to pick you up soon!" A soft click and the dull hum of an unoccupied line echoed in my ears a moment later, causing me to inwardly curse the impatience of my older sibling. Being the youngest of three daughters had it's advantages at times, but just as often, was laden with disadvantages as well-even at our current ages, with Rosabel being twenty eight years old and myself only a mere four years her junior, she still had the tendency to boss me around. By now I understood that it was a force of habit and done unintentionally, but it still was aggravating at times.

As for me, the youngest of the Di Saronno Dolls, as we had been affectionately nicknamed as children back in our birthplace of London by close friends of our parents, I was working as a second grade teacher at the local elementary school, a job that required long hours, plenty of patience, and a constant smile. As stressful as it was at times, working with children had always been enjoyable for me. It wasn't my first choice for a career, but it paid the bills and put food on the table, so I couldn't complain. My first job in the working world had been a horrible experience, and that's putting it kindly. I still have nightmares about it from time to time-but for now, I'll just leave it at that.

Although my family originally hailed from deep within the plane of Italy, my grandparents had relocated to London shortly after their marriage and reared their family there. Shortly after the incident with my first job, my older sister and I both relocated to the states, choosing the quaint Virginian town of Norfolk as our nesting ground. What became of the rest of my family is unknown to me. Supposedly, my parents were killed in a horrific automobile accident, but neither their bodies nor vehicle was leaving behind a husband and infant son. Her husband fell victim to insanity shortly after she vanished, smothering their son with a pillow before putting a bullet into his brain. It was then Rosabel and I decided to relocate-we simply had nothing left for us in the place we had spent our childhood, a time of innocence that had been brutally ripped from us and tainted with the guise of horrid memories.

A rough shake of my head roused me from my unwanted trip down a lane of terrible and painful memories, and with determined force, I tore my attention away from thoughts of the past and looked instead to the task ahead. Each Friday night of every other week, my sister and her friends went out to this tiny little hole in the wall club to drink and dance the night away. I had only been out with them a few times despite being invited to every outing, simply because I wasn't much of a people person. In a classroom setting, I was the perfect teacher-punctual, decisive, and kind, a hard worker whose students weren't only successful in their studies, but had fun while learning. Put me in a casual social setting, however, and I was as meek and clumsy as giraffe on skates-I was timid, easily flustered, and couldn't take a compliment well at all. Rosabel often scolded me for being so shy, constantly reminding me that I hadn't had a boyfriend since my sophomore year of high school with dedicated gusto. I couldn't very well argue with her-her best friend, Jeanne often accused me of being fickle, but that wasn't the case. Men didn't want shy and sweet-they wanted straight forward, in your face. Safe to say, despite being relatively good looking, pretty even, I was not the preferred prey here.

Despite my mild aggravation of being so rudely torn out of my dreams after a long day at work, I climbed out of bed and took a quick shower, the pressure of the pulsating hot water on my back and shoulders helping to wake me up. Ten minutes later, I emerged from the bathroom, clad only in a worn green towel, my lengthy auburn hair damp from the moisture and falling past my shoulders in thick, delicate waves. After a solid fifteen minutes of digging through my drawers and closet, I finally decided on a plain black off the shoulder blouse with long peasant style sleeves that ended at my elbows and a simple knee length skirt of forest green with a pair of patented black heels reaching a solid three inches in height. I myself stood at a solid five foot six inches, short enough to pull off wearing heels and not look ridiculous while doing so-Rosabel often complained about this. She had taken after my father in that respect, standing at six foot even, with dark chocolate brown hair she preferred to wear short and honey brown eyes covered by thick rimmed blue glasses that gave her that sexy librarian look that caused the eyes of men to follow her with obvious interest. At times, I secretly envied her for the ease in which she attracted their attention, a simple gaze or quick smile enough to lure them under her spell.

Much like my oldest sister, I had taken after my mother, my hair the same shade of fiery auburn and my eyes the color of hazel, a strange shade of golden green that appeared more gold than anything, save for when my emotions were incredibly strong. Only at high points of extreme fear, sadness, or the like did my orbitals ever take on that rare shade of green. My siblings and I had all been blessed with perfect skin, Rosabel loving to keep hers tanned and dark, giving her skin a rich caramel pigmentation that she proudly showed off at every opportunity with the tight, revealing clothing she wore. In that respect, we didn't look anything alike; me with my pale flesh that looked like it had never before seen the light of the sun. Part from our skin, our figures also differed greatly. While the both of us were slim and supple, she was better endowed then I was, but I was the one with the more profound curves. I was also an avid dancer who took classes in Jazz, hip hop, and tribal dance three nights a week at the local Y, where as my sister viewed the idea of any form of exercise as being evil. We were different in many ways, alright, and not just concerning appearance.

Satisfied with my choice of clothing, I quickly blew dry my hair, deciding to leave it down. The lengthy auburn tresses fell just past my shoulders, cascading down my back in a waterfall of straight, silken locks. Unlike my sister, I wore my bangs long, allowing them to frame my face. I quickly brushed my teeth, applied a coat of strawberry flavored lip balm to my lips, and dabbed my neck and wrists with a bit of perfume, the sweet scent of vanilla and chamomile flooding my nose and causing a smile to play on my lips. I didn't bother with make up-in my opinion, it just made me look strange, so why wear it?

Just as I had finished putting on my usual jewelry, which consisted of a thin silver chain bearing a matching charm shaped like a compass and inlaid with an oddly colored green stone, and a plain silver ring with a similar gem planted firmly in the center of the odd cross the ring bore, worn on the ring finger of my right hand, my door bell began to chime, signaling the arrival of my sister. Checking my reflection one last time in the full length mirror that stood beside my door, I made my way down to the foyer and opened the door.

"Thank god! I half expected you to still be in bed!" she exclaimed loudly, as usual, pulling me in for a quick hug and the usual kisses on the cheek, carefully as not to smear her thick crimson lip stick. I took a step back to eye her outfit, which made my own look like something a crabby old biddy would wear to church. She was dressed in a tight pair of form fitting jean shorts that barely reached the tops of her knees and were covered in random tears, a pale pink tank top that hugged her ample bosom and revealed the smooth flesh of her slender belly, as well as her belly ring and the tribal sun ring tattoo she had gotten only a month or so before. On her feet she wore a pair of simple black ballet flats. She saw me studying her and chuckled, quickly spinning around as if to give me a better view.

"Like it? I just bought it the other day at the mall and figured that tonight would be a good night to show it off," she offered with a wide, knowing grin as her eyes combed over my body shamelessly. "What the hell are you wearing? We're going to a night club, not a teaching seminar! Next time I take a trip to the mall, I'm dragging your ass with me! How the hell can you expect men to look at you when you dress like a prude? Jeez!"

Rather than argue with her, I simply nodded my head, grabbing my usual purse from the counter and shoving my cell phone and wallet inside. "Jeanne is driving tonight, so don't worry about being the D.D., okay? Drink a few and loosen up! Maybe then we can find you a man!" she cried with obvious excitement as I followed her out to the car, rolling my eyes in response to her antics, knowing full well that the moment we arrived, the odds were that I would be on my own. Rosabel would find herself a little plaything for the evening and forget all about me.

Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at this quaint little lounge by the name of Charlie's on the outskirts of downtown Norfolk. It was a rather small joint with a fully loaded bar, an old school juke box, a large dance floor, and a trio of pool tables that were always occupied by groups of heavy set, leather clad bikers, with metal chains dangling from their pockets and lit cigarettes hanging from their lips. It was the cliché style of the country type, with hard wood floors, brick walls, and western day core, and despite it's lack of popularity, it was my sister's favorite place to have a night out on the town.

The pungent scent of smoke greeted us the moment we stepped in through the double wooden doors, the atmosphere clouded over in a methanol haze, the sounds of conversation overriding the soft lull of country music that blasted from the old juke near the back. As was our usual routine, our small group of four headed to the bar for the first drinks of the evening, many pairs of eyes turning our way to stare with unabashed interest. Jeanne, who was dressed very similar to my sister, giggled in response to the attention, her other friend, Clarrissa, being as bold as to wave in the direction of one of the men who was staring. I kept my eyes to the floor, only glancing up when the bar tender asked me what I wanted to drink.

"Rum and coke for the three of us," Rosabel announced to the bar keep before glancing at me, a small smirk forming upon her lips before she continued. "And what do you want, Luci Bell?"

"Jack on the rocks," I replied curtly, annoyed at the teasing way she said my name. My full name was Luciana Belinda Di Saronno, but my oldest sister had ever been the only one to ever call me Luci Bell. Hearing Rosabel use that pet name bothered me, but I refused to let her see my discomfort. The bar tender quickly brought out our drinks, flashing a wide smile my way before returning to work serving his other customers. I glanced at my sister, hoping she had missed it, but with no such luck.

"He's a cute one. Maybe you should ask him when his shift ends, eh?" she whispered in my ear as she leaned in close, a soft giggle escaping her lips as I ignored her, choosing instead to turn my full attention to the drink before me. The Jack Daniels was potent and cold, the burning tingle of the alcohol warming my chest as it made its way down.

"I love this song!" Jeanne exclaimed when Carrie Underwood came on the juke box, the trio beginning to belt out the words to 'Before he cheats' in their slightly off tune voices. Before long, the three had made their way out to the dance floor, quickly attracting the attention of several admirers with almost no effort. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at their antics, but also deep down, wish that I was out there with them, that I was able to be as free spirited and loose as they were. Before long, I had moved on to drink number two, softly singing along with the words to 'As cold as you' by Taylor Swift as it came on the juke box, unintentionally catching the attention of one of the men sitting along the bar.

"Now please tell me why it is a pretty little thing like you is sitting here all alone instead of being out on that dance floor with her friends," he said as he approached, claiming the stool beside me. Something in those ice blue eyes of his screamed trouble, so I fixed him with a weak smile and shrugged my shoulders, hoping to discourage him with my lack of response. Unfortunately, he mistook my silence for interest and offered to buy me another drink, displaying a wide grin that looked like it belonged to a hungry shark. I declined as politely as I could, but still he wouldn't leave. It wasn't until my sister came and dragged from the bar did he finally give up. I smacked a hand over her lips before she could offer to leave me alone with him, pleading with my eyes for her to get me the hell away from him. A charmed smile and promise to hit him up before she left for the night later, she was dragging me to the back of the lounge where the pool tables were, the scent of smoke growing considerably as we approached .

"What's the rush?" I asked her, unable to ignore the smirk of satisfaction she had playing on her lips. "This guy-he's just about the hottest thing I've ever seen in here and I want your opinion," she said bluntly, her request surprising me. "Since when does my opinion matter to you?" I questioned, honestly shocked at the nature of her question. "Because Jeanne has disappeared with some guy and Clarissa is already too smashed to remember her own name, much less anyone else's," she responded, quickly squashing my hopes for a moment of sisterly bonding.

"Well, come on!" she cajoled impatiently, seizing my arm and effectively dragging me to the back, the pressure of many pairs of curious eyes immediately making me feel like a piece of meat that had been thrown into a pit of hungry lions. "That's him, the one wearing the blue," she continued, quickly pointing in the direction of her intended target, my eyes tracing her gesture and widening in response to the sight. The hottest thing she had ever seen was an understatement on so many levels-guys that good looking just didn't live around these parts, and if they did, they had women or wouldn't been caught dead at a sleazy joint like Charlie's. His chin length soft brown hair, lightened with subtle highlights of golden blonde framed his face, the strong curve of his jaw and delicate curve of his nose giving him the appearance of an aristocrat, but his best feature had to have been his eyes, a shade of frozen azure accented with gray. He was dressed casually, in a simple navy blue collared shirt, the front lined with tiny pearlescent buttons, the very top one undone to reveal a glimpse of an obviously well defined chest, worn baggy blue jeans and plain black combat boots. At the moment, he was engaged in what appeared to be a fierce game of pool with one of the regulars, winning by two balls. It was his turn to take a shot at the eight ball, and when he came to shoot, he glanced up from his place as he positioned his stick, his eyes catching mine for a brief second before a slight smirk formed upon those lips, a quick tap of the pool stick resulting in a successful shot. It was at that very moment, I could have sworn I heard my heart hit the wall with a resounding splat.

"So what do you think? Gorgeous, right? And he's alone. I think I'll ask him to dance," she said in a hushed voice, speaking more to herself than to me. She didn't bother waiting for a response, instead left my side to approach her newest victim, her most sugary sweet smile playing on those crimson smeared lips. I was too far from them to overhear the conversation, but the satisfied smile playing on my sister's lips told me enough. 'I might as well go call a cab now,' I thought, wondering why I was suddenly feeling so depressed. Rosabel had found her source of entertainment for the evening, so I wasn't needed anymore. Hell, I wasn't really ever needed when it came to her outings.

I quickly headed for the exit, turning to glance back at them over my shoulder and witnessing Rosabel casually placing her hand on her new eye candy's chest and lean in close to whisper something in his ear. Whatever she said to him had him grinning, so I really didn't want to think about whatever lewd promises my sister had no doubt made to the man. Withdrawing my cell phone from my purse, I dialed for a cab and went to sit outside to wait, unable to comprehend why I was suddenly feeling so jealous of my sister. I couldn't understand it-or maybe, I just didn't want to. Whatever the case was, I couldn't get his face out of my head. I was almost certain that the sight of those ice blue eyes would haunt my dreams for some time, and the weirdest thing was, I was looking forward to it. Dreams were all I had, so why not?

Knowing that I had a good half an hour wait ahead of me, I sat down on the lone bench just a few feet in front of the entrance, beneath the single lit lamp, tightly crossing my legs as I withdrew 'Misery' from my bag, planning to use my favorite Stephen King novel to pass the time.

Another night wasted.


	3. Chapter 2

**Luciana Di Saronno (2)**

"_Only his lips, pressed together so tightly that they almost disappeared, gave away some inward emotion. Anger? Perhaps. Distaste? Yes. That was probably closer…" _

The soft tread of approaching footsteps didn't deter my attention from my reading, nor did the silent pressure of an unannounced presence as someone slid down onto the bench beside me, thankfully keeping his or her distance. I kept my eyes trained on the text, silently praying that whoever it was sitting beside me wouldn't attempt to start up a conversation-like I said before, I'm a social failure. Maybe if I just kept to myself, I could avoid another awkward attempt at being a people person. God knows I've messed that up enough times…

"It must be pretty uncomfortable watching your friends hit on other guys and you not getting any of the attention. There isn't a need to be passive, Miss," an unfamiliar voice, obviously male, deep but lacking threat, spoke, a rather pathetic attempt to start a conversation. But whoever he was, he must have been paying close attention to the group I had arrived with to come to such a conclusion. Intrigued but still overly wary, I kept my eyes trained on the book before me, refusing to let my interest be capture by such a statement.

"What a shallow deduction, sir. I'm sorry to say, but I could care less of whether or not such men pay attention to me or not. As for my friends, they do as they please. Anything else you care to know?" I said curtly, my eyes not once faltering from the text before them. I came off sounding like a complete and total bitch, I know, but it was more a defense mechanism than anything else. I suppose you could say that I was scared to face my unwanted guest face to face-it was so much easier to push people away when you couldn't see their eyes. For me, the eyes were the most expressive part of the human anatomy. They could express great amounts of emotion in a single glance, lie with little effort, and show things that would otherwise go unnoticed. Eyes were truly the window to the soul. By avoiding looking into this stranger's eyes, I was saving myself from getting too involved.

"Jeez, that really hurt the soul. No need to get defensive."

Well, that cheesy line did it. I couldn't help but glance up at him in reaction, the expression of slight amusement quickly turning into complete shock at the sight of the person sitting next to me. "Holy shit…" I quickly felt my cheeks darken with heat, my eyes quickly making contact with the floor and staying there as I mentally kicked myself repeatedly. It was him, the guy from the pool tables. My sister's prey for the evening.

'_Oh hell…'_

" 'Holy shit'? I guess I've heard worse. At least you looked at me, that's a good start." The large grin he had playing on his face mimicked that of the Cheshire cat, straight out of Alice in Wonderland. The blush marring my cheeks worsened considerably, and I couldn't help but glance back up at him for a brief moment before forcing my eyes back to the floor. God, attractive was an understatement in light of this man, whoever he was.

"W-what brings you out here? Last I saw, you seemed to be getting pretty close with my sister," I replied, attempting to keep my voice from trembling, but it did me little good. The slight stutter seemed to amuse him, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. I snuck a quick glance up, catching his eyes by mistake. But once I caught sight of them, I was like a helpless fly caught in the midst of a spider's web. I couldn't pull myself away-instead, I felt as if I was being drawn into those azure depths with a magnetic pull so strong, attempting to look away was a foolish thought. How many other women he had so easily charmed with those beautiful eyes of his must have been quite a long list, but they shone with a kindness and intelligence that was rare to behold in our society as it is today. However, by ignoring this insight and focusing on evils I wasn't even certain existed, I managed to tear my gaze away from him, forcing my attention back to the ground. No other man had ever gauged such an intense reaction out of me, not even Jared, my one (and only) high school sweetheart of two long years. I didn't even know his name yet! Inwardly, I cursed myself, hating being the social train wreck that I was. If I only had a little bit of Rosabel's confidence…

"I figured that was your sister, you both look so much alike. Aside from her forwardness, the only real difference I could catch was your eyes. I've never seen eyes like yours. And no, I'm not saying this to get you to go out with me. It's the honest truth."

A wave of anger washed over me at the thought of being compared to Rosabel. I absolutely despised being told I looked anything like my sister. "Believe me, it's only similar looks that we share," I responded, but lacking the cold, curt tone I had began with. "I'm nothing like her, and I wouldn't want to be like her. As for my eyes, they aren't anything special, other than being a gift from my mother. And your honest truth comes off like well placed flattery, but I suppose I should keep my manners about me and thank you for the compliment." I found myself drawn to his eyes once more, only this time, I didn't posses the strength to pull away. Apart from that, I wasn't sure I wanted to.

His expression lapsed into a heartfelt look of sincerity, causing my heart to flutter in response. "Well, I'm sorry for touching on a subject that's a bit too personal. At least your part of the unorthodox, that's what makes you attractive. And yes, this time I'm flattering you."

At this point, I didn't think my face could get any redder, but somehow, it did, my cheeks shining a bright, cherry red that nearly matched my hair, a soft, amused chuckle emerging from my throat before I thought to hold it back.

"…And I guess for good measure, you look good in red. As much as I'd like to adore you further, I've got an early day tomorrow, so here…"

He reached into the pocket of his jeans and withdrew a plain white business card, the only text visible being a name and number in bold black ink, written in simple script, and held it out to me. With only a moment of hesitation, I accepted the card, simply holding it loosely in my hand as he rose to his feet, watching him intently as he made ready to take his leave, secretly wishing that he wouldn't go but knowing the situation was out of my hands. Tonight was the first and probably the last time I would ever see him, and much to my surprise, such a thought saddened me-although no one would ever be able to tell otherwise, I actually liked his company. He definitely wasn't like the majority of the male population.

He started to walk away, quite literally, taking my heart with him. I don't think I ever hated myself more than I did at that very moment. Letting him walk away didn't feel right, but I didn't know what else to do. I wasn't just a social failure; I was a failure at relationships, romance, everything of that nature. There was no reason to make him waste him time with someone like me.

As he was making his way to the parking lot alongside the lounge, he paused and glanced back over his shoulder, fixing me with that wide smile of his and mouthing the word 'anytime' before leaving my line of vision. He may have left my sight, but he definently hadn't left my thoughts.

'_Maybe my night hadn't been a total waste after all…'_

The next day…

I groaned loudly in protest as the door bell chimed loudly, echoing down the narrow hall that led into my bedroom at the back of my house, signaling that I had a visitor. Rolling over onto my stomach in bed, I glanced at the alarm clock that sat on the nightstand, the neon green digits announcing that it was already a quarter past twelve. Even though it was a Saturday, I rarely ever slept so late-getting home around three in the morning will do that to you, I suppose. Unfortunately, my cab had never arrived, so I was stuck waiting at Charlie's for Jeanne to resurface, which she finally did around two, looking quite pleased. As for Clarrissa, she had fallen victim to the alcoholic daze a long time ago and was passed out in one of the chairs in the back. My sister had quickly recovered from her so called 'rejection' and hit it off with the friend of the man who had originally turned her down, the man who had managed to worm his way into my mind and wouldn't leave. Leon S. Kennedy, as his card had read, giving a name fitting that incredibly handsome face and hypnotic eyes. His friend, Seth, had been the one to give us a ride home, seeing that Jeanne had gotten trashed despite her role as the designated driver. Thankfully, not much was said on the ride home, much to my relief. My mind was still in a jumble at that point, and decent conversation wouldn't have been possible with my thoughts as mixed up as they were.

I crawled out of bed and quickly ran a brush through the mess I called my hair, attempting to look at least somewhat presentable, only to find that my visitor was none other than my sister-meaning that any sort of preparation was just a waste. We had grown up together; she had already seen the good, the bad, and the ugly, so nothing would surprise her at this point-that is, unless she showed up my house unannounced one morning and found me in bed with a duo of naked, drop dead gorgeous men. _That_ might give her a heart attack…and then send her into an endless whining spiel about how lucky I was. _Not_ that something like that would ever happen.

"You look like hell," was the first thing to leave her lips the moment I swung open the door to invite her inside. Her idea of a sisterly greeting, I suppose. But before I could reply to her blunt insult, she went off into one of her tizzy fits, exploding into a rant of excited rambling that I could barely keep up with. "I take it things went well with Seth?" I asked when she had paused to take a breath, her cheeks flushed and a wide grin playing on her face. "'Well' is a total understatement! That man is straight up _amazing_ in bed! I can't believe I've never noticed him there before! Apparently he's a regular there…I think I can see us together for a long time, ya know?" I couldn't fight the urge to roll my eyes when she said this-Rosabel's idea of a long term relationship consisted of a grand total of two weeks, if the guy was lucky. "And he does this thing with this tongue-"

"Enough!" I interrupted, slamming my hand firmly over her mouth before she could finish her sentence. "I really don't want to hear about you and your whore escapades." I was no longer surprised by my older sibling's lewd behavior, but that didn't mean I wanted to hear the details. The first few times she bragged to me about her sexual excursions, I scolded her, much like if I were the older and more responsible sister, but, as expected, my warnings and concerns fell on deaf ears. That was who Rosabel was, and nothing I did was ever going to change her.

'Riiiight…wouldn't want to hurt the virgin ears. By the way, how did it go with…uh, what's his name? Liam? Leo?" As nonchalantly as she spoke, her words with underlain with an obvious curiosity, and being my older sister, she knew exactly how to push my buttons with little effort.

"Leon," I corrected her, perhaps a bit too quickly, falling into her trap without realizing that I had taken her bait until it was too late. "AH HA! I knew it! You like him!" she accused, her voice high and teasing as a huge, victorious smirk formed upon her crimson lips. "You think too much," I responded, attempting to shrug off her very right assumption, but once she caught wind of such things, trying to distract her from her set goal was like trying to pull a starving wolf away from the sight of a grazing lamb. "Tell me what happened! And don't leave anything out!" she demanded with excitement, clapping her hands like a hyper active school kid. "There isn't much to tell," I replied bluntly, sighing deeply in defeat as I made my way to the kitchen to set up a pot of coffee, craving some caffine. She followed at my heels like an eager puppy dog, refusing to let it go.

"Don't give me that bullshit. Spill it!" she barked, standing at her full height and placing her hands firmly on her hips, much like our mother used to do on the rare occasion she got angry with us. "We just talked for a little bit-well, he really did most of the talking, but he gave me a card with his number and-" I didn't even get to finish my sentence before finding her staring me straight in the eye, the speed of which she cornered me frightening to say the least.

"You got his number?! So when are you going to call him then?" she demanded as I looked away, turning my back on her to withdraw a set of mugs from one of the overhead cabinets as the coffee brewed, flooding the kitchen with its delicious, rich scent. "I'm not," I said flatly, seeing no reason to beat around the bush. At that moment, I felt two hands seize my shoulders and spin me around, those hands gripping me firmly, the nails digging uncomfortably into the thin fabric of my shirt as Rosabel held me in place before her, her eyes glittering with utter disbelief.

"A guy like that shows interest in you, goes out of his way to talk to you, _AND_ makes the first move, and still you won't give him a chance? Are you mad, woman?" she cried, lightly shaking me to emphasize her words, her chocolate orbitals glaring down at me maliciously. "I am _not_ letting you pass this great opportunity up, Luciana. I don't care how stubborn you are, you_ will_ call him and ask him on a date, or I'll do it for you," she threatened. I couldn't help but stare up at her with wide, shocked eyes, her little outburst so out of character for someone like her, I almost thought it was a joke.

"You know," she continued, releasing her iron grip on my shoulders but keeping her eyes trained on me as she took a step back, her voice taking on a thoughtful tone as she spoke. "He turned _me_ down to talk to you-that in itself should tell you that he's not like the average Joe-I mean, after all, what man in his right mind would turn _this _down?" I could have smacked her at that moment-so much for her being modest for once in her lifetime.

"All I'm saying is to give the man a chance, okay? I'm almost certain that you won't regret it," she offered, approaching me once more and placing an oddly reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Call him."

For once in my life, I took her advice-and believe it or not, she was right. I never once regretted it.

Of course, me being me, I didn't work up the courage to even attempt to call him until Sunday afternoon. It was shortly after two, and I had just finished up my weekly jazz dance class at the Y. On my way into the bathroom, I spotted his card sitting on the nightstand, my cell phone having conveniently landed beside it when I had set my purse down.

'_Well, if that's not an omen, then I don't know what is…' _

I decided to take a shower before trying, not only because I was a sweaty mess but also because I needed time to prepare. I mean, what the hell was I going to say to the man? Hi, I'm that girl who made an ass of herself when you tried to talk to her two nights ago at Charlie's, want to go for coffee sometime? Real smooth…

God, I was going to mess this up, I knew I was.

Trying to buy time, I stayed in the shower until the water had ran cold, prompting me to get the hell out of there as soon as I could. I stepped out of the glass encased shower stall and snatched myself a fresh towel, quickly rubbing myself down before wrapping it securely around my body, grabbing a second one to wrap up my soaking wet hair. I emerged back into my bedroom, knowing that if I put it off any longer, I would chicken out. I reached for the phone and quickly dialed the number, losing my nerve after two rings and quickly hanging it. What the hell was I doing?

'_What's wrong with me? This is so foolish…'_

'_Just do it-he wouldn't have given you his number if he didn't want to talk to you. Dial the damn digits and don't hang up until he answers!'_

With a sudden burst of confidence, I redialed the number, and waited. Two rings. Five rings. After eight rings, I hung up, my will power lost. "Well, that's the end of that," I said softly to myself, not sure of why I felt so damn disappointed. "I tried. I bet that he's probably forgotten about me by now, anyway…I didn't exactly make a good impression…Jesus, now I'm talking to myself!"

At that moment, the phone rang, the loud, high pitched whine causing me to jump in fright. My heart hit the floor when I glanced at the screen, where a number was displayed rather than a name. But it wasn't just any number…it was him.

'_Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! What do I do?'_

'_Pick up the damn phone already!' _

With a slightly trembling hand, I picked up the vibrating electronic and held it to my ear, pressing the talk button after quickly clearing my throat.

"Hello?" came his voice at once, sounding curious and slightly alarmed. "Hello? Is anyone there? Hello?"

'_Say something!'_

"H-hi," I managed to choke out, mentally smacking myself for sounding so damn ridiculous. "You probably don't remember me, but…"

There was a slight pause, only for a brief moment, but to me, it felt like an eternity before he responded. "Oh! You're the chick from Charlie's, right? Miss Red?"

I mentally scoffed at his use of a nickname-how was he to know that my father had often referred to me as Red growing up? In fact, he had stupid little nicknames for all of us. Rosabel was Sunflower, because of the dark shade of her deep brown eyes, and Alessia was Apple, obviously after her vibrant red hair.

"Actually, my name is Luciana, in case you're interested. So, it's Leon, right?" Even I was surprised at the ease in which I spoke. I suppose that speaking to someone over the phone was much easier than confronting said person face to face, hence why I wasn't blubbering and sounding like a total moron-yet, anyway.

"Luciana…that's a beautiful name. And yes, my name's Leon. I feel embarrassed a bit that my card introduced me instead of myself, ya know? And I can see your still amongst the living. Seth is notorious for driving crazy."

'Beautiful? Jeez, he sure is a charmer,' I thought, feeling my cheeks heat up in response. I could vividly picture that grin of his as he spoke, and couldn't help but smile at the thought. "There you go with the flattery again. And crazy is an understatement, but I did make it home in one piece. Seth and my sister seemed to have really hit it off, but you probably know that by now…"

"He spoke briefly on that, not sure why. He's usually open with shit like that. But I'm not worried. Well, if you don't mind, you wanna go out somewhere? My treat. I feel more comfortable talking face-to-face then through a receiver."

"You beat me to it," I replied sheepishly, but secretly relieved that he had been the first to ask. "I'm horrible with things like this. Coffee sound good? When is good for you? Any place in particular? I'm asking too many questions, aren't I? Shit…so much for avoiding the moronic blubbering. Hell, I can't believe I just said that out loud…"

He broke out in amused laughter, the sound of his laugh infectious, causing a small chuckle to escape my throat-thank god he couldn't see me at the moment-my face had gone beet red, and I was sure I looked like a sun burned beach bum. "It's okay, I understand. I hope you don't mind Starbucks, I could go for some right now."

'_Now? Shit! What the hell do I wear?!'_

"Sounds like a plan. Is the one on Orange Grove okay?"

"Sure. What time?"

"Hmm…say in about, half an hour?"

"Okay. No need to dress to impress. See ya in a few."

The moment he hung up, I jumped up in victory, pumping my arms happily into the air as I broke out into a small dance, all smiles as I headed into my closet to grab something to wear. At one point while I was getting dressed, I turned on the radio, finding my favorite Carrie Underwood song to be playing on the station I had previously set it to. Singing at the top of my lungs, I twirled around my room in my underwear a bit, giggling to myself as I shuffled through the rack of clothing, finally deciding on a forest green turtle neck sweater, a simple pair of nicely fitting black jeans and the same pair of black heels I had worn to Charlie's.

"And I don't even know his last name, my momma would be so ashamed! It's started off 'hey cutie, where ya from?' and it turned into 'oh no, what have I done?' And I don't even know his last name!" I belted out, considerably better than a dying alley cat, but I couldn't seem to help myself. And all over something as simple as coffee. _'Jesus, I'm pathetic,'_ I thought with a smile. _'But who cares?'_

I quickly brushed out my hair and sprayed on a little perfume, put on the usual jewelry and checked my reflection before snatching up my purse and heading out to the car, feelings of apprehension bubbling within the pit of my stomach and causing the butterflies there to flutter harder.

'_Here goes nothing…'_


	4. Chapter 2 Part 2

**Leon S. Kennedy (2)  
**

"_I'm Leon Kennedy, nice to meet ya."_

"_My name's Claire….Claire Redfield. I'm looking for my brother Chris."_

"_That guy's gonna ram us!!"_

"_CLAIRE!"_

"_LEON!!"_

"_Go to the police station, I'll meet you there!"_

"_Okay!"_

_The street was broken up and destroyed, as if a riot had passed through, flipping the cars that were carelessly strewn about the dismantled chunks of black asphalt and breaking the windows of several stores. The only thing remaining were those damn zombies, their deep, droning sounds echoing about in a dull, tasteless chorus as they sluggishly limped their way to the only source of fresh meat within this now piss-poor city: me. Again, I checked my tactical belt that was fastened tightly at my waist, to assure myself one more time that I still had two clips remaining. But as I felt for the magazine holster, I discovered only one clip left. I cursed loudly at myself, forgetting for a brief moment that I had given Claire my extra clip to arm herself with before we had parted ways. I just hoped that she would use the ammo wisely. _

_The smell of burning oil and rancid metal filled my nose, the heat of the flames giving me an irritating warming sensation on my back as I faced the long street ahead of me. Progressively, these torn, rotten people dragged, crawled, and stumbled their way around, guided by the only sense they had left-their sense of smell. My body twisted and my stomach churned violently as it pre-empted my instincts to vomit, but I held firm. I couldn't let myself become vulnerable now, especially when there was a fleet of reanimated corpses approaching where I stood, slowly but surely. I steadied my arm, aiming at the closest zombie, who was only a mere five feet to my right, and took my first shot, targeting the creature's forehead. _

_RingRingRing…RingRingRing…_

_Something was ringing faintly in the background… But whatever it was, I couldn't allow myself to get distracted by it; I had to get to the police station! Once that walking carcass fell, the victim of one well placed bullet to the brain, I took aim of my next target. Just before I pulled the trigger, my stomach churned and I dry heaved, my throat stinging in response. Nothing sounded in recognition that I hit my target successfully. I coughed, gagged and took a step back to keep myself from falling. God, the stench was too horrible to bear, especially in light of the burning Limbo behind me. Somehow mustering the strength to rise to my feet, I stood straight and took aim once again. _

_RingRingRing…RingRingRing…_

_What the fuck!?_

My eyes shot open and I immediately sat straight up in bed. This time around, I managed to avoid grabbing for my gun, but I still was panting heavily and sweating buckets. Once it had sunk in that was I awake, a massive head-ache split my mind in two, sending flashes of light to dance across my vision as I groaned, slamming my eyes shut in an attempt to will away the agony. I licked my dry lips and then gritted my teeth in pain, clutching my forehead. Then my cell-phone rang again…

_RingRingRing…RingRingRing…_

I grabbed it with a shaky hand the cell and pressed "Talk", raising the device to my ear. "Hello?" I greeted my caller softly, with a surprisingly steady voice that was the complete opposite of my current demeanor. Being able to mask my voice with so little effort and not let onto my true feelings was quite a feat in my opinion, and it was at times like this that I was thankful for such an ability in the off chance it was someone important calling. The line was silent, echoing with an eerie quiet that didn't help my current mindset. I tried again,

"Hello? Is anyone there? Hello?"

After a few more moments of utter silence, I was prepared to hang up-that is, until I heard a cute, nervous voice finally speak up on the other end of the line. "H-hi, you probably don't remember me, but…"

From the moment I heard her stutter, which I almost didn't catch at first, I quickly came out of my daze and she had my full attention. "Oh! You're the chick from Charlie's, right? Miss Red?" I hoped to high hell that it was her, but it somehow felt too soon to get a phone call from someone I just met only two nights ago. Maybe it was just me being ignorant, but I really couldn't think much on the subject at the moment, seeing that I was dealing with a horrible headache and it was killing me. I couldn't let Miss Red become aware of that fact; I didn't want her to think I was irritated by her call. But hell…she called…she _actually_ called…

"Actually, my name is Luciana, in case you're interested. So, it's Leon, right?"

_Luciana. _That name echoed in my mind as my lips curved into a pleasing smile. I spoke my mind, "Luciana…that's a beautiful name. And yes, my name's Leon. I feel embarrassed a bit that my card introduced me instead of myself, ya know? And I can see your still amongst the living. Seth is notorious for driving crazy." Jeez, did I just rant on like that? I shouldn't be nervous in talking to Luciana; from what I could tell by her voice alone, she was the nervous one here, not me. I guess, within the depths of my shell, I still held that soft, vulnerable confidence with women. But it's fair game, right? I mean, we were both nervous, her more so than I, but we're standing on equal grounds. I twisted my body out of bed and allowed my feet to rest on the cold tile of the floor. I was still dressed in my jeans, but I wore no shirt due to it being a little too warm in my room to sleep with one on. Despite the privacy that came with living alone, I still felt subconscious about myself because of that horrible scar marring my apex, serving as a constant, grim reminder of the nightmares I had lived through.

"There you go with the flattery again." She began, a slight smile in her voice as she spoke. "And crazy is an understatement, but I did make it home in one piece. Seth and my sister seemed to have really hit it off, but you probably know that by now…"

My smile widened at her words, already knowing of the fact-knowing too much perhaps. "He spoke briefly on that, not sure why. He's usually open with shit like that. But I'm not worried." I paused for a minute to let that soak into her mind, silently shaking my head-speaking briefly was bullshit-Seth had attempted to go into details, which I had quickly stopped him from doing. Hearing about my friend's sex life was not among my favorite pastimes. "Well, if you don't mind, you wanna go out somewhere? My treat. I feel more comfortable talking face-to-face then through a receiver."

Alright, so maybe it was a little too forward and a little too soon, but I obviously wasn't thinking of that. I wanted to get to know her more and I really did feel more comfortable talking in person. It gives me the edge when I talk to people head-on because it enables me to read them easier. You can only do so much over the phone. I'd much rather use my skills to the fullest extent rather than half ass a situation. Besides, the chance to once again see those lovely hazel eyes of hers only made me more eager to meet up with her again. I know, I know, one more lame excuse to see her again, right? It's called attraction, folks. I can't help it. And I didn't want to help it either.

"You beat me to it," She replied in a soft, child like voice. "I'm horrible with things like this. Coffee sound good? When is good for you? Any place in particular? I'm asking too many questions, aren't I? Shit…so much for avoiding the moronic blubbering. Hell, I can't believe I just said that out loud…"

I couldn't help but laugh at her response. She sounded so cute, so easily flustered. I'm happy to say that I didn't laugh alone; she joined in, her soft giggle sounding like it belonged to a school girl rather than a full grown adult. _At least I broke the tension somewhat,_ I thought with a slightly victorious smile. "It's okay," I finally said, "I understand. I hope you don't mind Starbucks, I could go for some right now."

"Sounds like a plan. Is the one on Orange Grove okay?"

"Sure. What time?"

"Hmm…say in about, half an hour?"

"Okay. No need to dress to impress. See ya in a few."

I hung up, probably too quickly and much more eagerly then most might think. But in thirty minutes, I had to be there and I couldn't be late. Looks like this would be a record-breaking moment in getting myself cleaned up and dressed to meet Miss Red. No time to lose, right? I hopped up off the bed and ran straight to the bathroom, making my self-image somewhat decent, brushing my teeth rather quickly while my free hand deftly fixed my loose hair.

_Thirty-one minutes later…_

I arrived at the most heavenly of coffee shops in town only to have Luciana waiting quietly at one of the small tables provided, sitting in a neat row along the back wall. My entrance was signified by a high pitched, mechanical _beep_, alerting the employees working behind the counter that they had a customer. I was just an average guy wearing a simple jeans jacket with a black shirt tucked neatly into my jeans that were a little loose fitting but quickly remedied by adding a leather belt with a solid silver buckle, fastening it comfortably about my waist to allow me some breathing space. I also wore my finger-cut leather gloves, the ones I typically wore while at work. I was sure that she wouldn't mind the accessory. Besides, women seem to fancy that rough biker image, although I'm not sure why. Inside my jacket, fitted carefully against my chest, was my leather holster that cradled my .45 pistol. Nothing could wean me from my metallic friend; I was a firm believer of the buddy-system. The set up of the store was simple, with the counter being located in the very center of the room, a couple of brightly colored lounges and comfortable chairs that circled a small wooden table closer to the entrance, and a row of small tables along the back. Once I glanced in Luciana's direction, her eyes met mine and I immediately smiled. It could have been a fool's smile or maybe an apologetic "sorry-I'm-late" smile, but it didn't seem to matter. I finally approached where she sat with a walk of confidence.

"Sorry I'm late." Was the first thing I said to her as I continued to give her a rather sheepish smile. She tilted her head to the left obviously confused, "Late?" Inwardly, I smiled at the cuteness Luciana demonstrated. I quickly disguised it with a shrug, "It's a personal vendetta." I sat down across from her respectfully and then I asked her coolly, "So, how was your day?" What better way to get to know someone then to start how their mind works. A person's response to this question always dictated how a person is in their life, no matter how social it is. I watched as her eye's glanced away from mine briefly, her continuous sign of being nervous showing, and replied rather quietly, "Pretty uneventful. Just had an early afternoon class, and that's about it." Her eye's then stared upward to the ceiling as if trying to avoid my glance. I guess I shouldn't press on the matter that she's blushing just by me talking to her. I took that into confidence and I adjusted myself in my seat, rather interested in what classes she took. "What kind of classes? Are you still a college student?" She looked young enough to be in college but I honestly don't want to rob the cradle here. I would find out her age soon enough.

Luciana gave a quick laugh, covering her mouth as she did so while shaking her head as if in disbelief, "I could almost say that I miss the old college days but then I'd be lying." Then her face went more serious as she looked at me with another questioning look, "Wait a minute- just how old do you think I am?" At this point, I raised my eyebrows in surprise at my false, unspoken accusations of her age. I answered truthfully, "No older then twenty-five, that's for sure." She was more mature then most, I began to realize. I do give credit to women that they do mature faster then men chemically but a lot are still stuck in the high school mentality well good through their twenties until they hit around their thirties. I was getting more and more interested in her by the moment. This time, she laughed openly, confident and comfortable with herself to be able to enjoy this moment at the fullest, "Well, close enough. I hit twenty-four back in July." It was easier to find out her age then I thought. After calming down, she then asked curiously, "What about you?" I rubbed my chin as the thought of her being twenty-four soaked into my thoughts, "24, huh? I don't think you wanna know how old I am." I looked at her and in retort to my response; she gave me a sincere look, that cute almost puppy-dog-eyed look that most men couldn't say no too. "Please?" she pleaded. I sighed, giving in and replied casually, "I just turned thirty." I awaited some sort of negative response no matter how hidden it was but as I watched her face, she gave me a small, shy smile, "God, you had me scared for a minute. You certainly don't look thirty…"

I smiled and looked up in thought as I sat back into my chair, "With all the hell that I've been through, I'm surprised I don't look older than I am." I began to get small flashes of my brief encounter with Krauser then my scarred chest from the gunshot wound. Then, Luciana finally asked the ultimate question, "What exactly do you do for a living?" I directed my eye's to Luci's and with a serious face I replied, "I work with the CIA." I had to give her the serious look; most don't take me serious when I tell them that small, little fact. Hell sometimes, it drove a lot of them away thinking that I would turn them in for all the bullshit they've done in the past. Like I would care. She gave a nervous chuckle that I almost took too far until she said, "Well, that's makes what I do for a living seem minor league. It's not exactly rocket science." I challenged her, "No, but I bet it's twice as easy as mine."

"Last I checked," she retorted, "teaching second grade isn't so easy, but it pays the bills." She gave a modest shrug while my expression replied with a wince, feeling her pain somewhat. "You got a point there. So, ready to get some coffee." She nods, "Lead the way, Mr. Kennedy." I scoffed as I stood up from where I sat. I can't believe she said that. And frankly, I spoke my mind, "Jeez, don't make me feel like I'm thirty now." She giggled, cute and innocent-like as she stood up with me, "Alright." It took little to no time to get our orders placed and our drinks received, so we quickly found ourselves back at our table, sipping on our straws much like high school kids on a weekend with nothing better to do. Heh, did I just say 'our table'? Nah, I don't think so…

"Thanks for the coffee." She said with such a beautiful smile, "I haven't had one of these things in a long time." I gave another casual shrug, "No problem. So…" _Oh god,_ I thought. _Is this the premature awkward silence? So soon?_ I couldn't believe I would find myself at this position so soon in this little date. The last thing I would want is to talk about myself, it'll make me seem like I'm self-centered? But then, asking her about her life is border-line 'stalker', right? _Ugh, so complicated!_ I looked away in thought as I took a sip from my Vanilla Bean Frap. After what seemed like forever she spoke up, "Sorry, I'm not really good with these sort of things. I really don't know what to say…" I looked at her, successfully holding the look of being surprised. But I gave a comforting smile and replied, "It's okay. I haven't been on one of these things in a long time…" I thought it'd be appropriate to say. She gave a small, sad smile and it was her time to challenge me, "Betcha I have you beat." I couldn't help but chuckle and replied, "Try me." Confidently, she replied without missing a beat, "Sophomore year in high school. Top that." I winced again in defeat and inhaled sharply. _She does have me beat._ "Ouch. My last date was back in 2000, so yeah you win." Her face finally cleared from the red tint, returned but only in a small dose and said, "I'm actually surprised." Why would she be surprised? I'm not that good-looking. I cocked an eyebrow and delved deeper, "And why is that?"

"Well…" She began, for a moment she seemed to be at a loss for words, "…you know why." She looks away, trying to avoid my glance once more. But I couldn't help but smile at this hidden compliment and she was acting too cute to ignore. I couldn't avoid the opportunity to maybe delve a little deeper give her face a bit more red to it, "Come on, tell me." She was toying her straw now; I'm assuming that she's trying to calm her nerves. "Well," she began, sounding rather unsure but knowingly in what she wants to say, "my sister came on to you, didn't she? She only goes after the good looking guys…that, and she did say that you were the hottest thing she ever saw in Charlie's." With the mention of her sister, I went serious once again and leaned in close to her as if I had a secret to tell, "To tell you the truth, I thought Seth set her up with me because in all honesty, she looked like a whore. No disrespect or anything." And it was the honest truth. I finally broke the tension in her as she gave her cute, soft laugh and shook her head, "There is no disrespect in being honest and concerning Rosabel, she maybe my sister, but whore is an understatement. Let's just keep that between us." I then laughed with her at the comment. Funny, I always thought sisters looked out for each other. But I guess in this case, Rosabel was a lost cause. I finally went back to the topic at hand and asked, "Well, do you agree with your sis?"

Once again, her nerves kicked in and she was getting flustered all over, her face now glowing into a soft red of blush. "I…uh…" she began but giggled nervously, looking down at the table, "I don't want to make a liar out of myself, and I would be if I said no, but I'm sure you hear that kind of thing often." I maintained my cheesy grin, enjoying the moment I'm having with her. Apart from embarrassing her at a moral, humane level, it was great being with her. "Not as often as you think," I said to her in reassurance, "but thanks for the refresher." Then, she rested her elbow on the table and leaned in slightly as I watched a piece of her silky auburn hair fall out of place. "I just tell it like I see it, that's all." She said with an alluring smile. Now, at this point, my mind calculated what I should and do next. Should I pull a cheesy romantic line? I was very much attracted by her, her personality and her figure altogether. But those hazel-green eye's, they were so mesmerizing. Taking careful look into them, I realized that they held more green then anything, the pattern inside weird but yet beautiful at the same time. I decided to take the leap of faith and let a smooth hand sweep the strand of loose auburn back while I said, "If that's the case, cute would be an understatement for you." Her face now was completely flushed with red now and I loved it! I never felt this good in the longest. She interrupted my thoughts, "There you go with the flattery again."

I held a victoriously smile now, though whether or not she could discern that is beyond me. "I just call it like I see it." _God,_ I thought frantically, _Should I seal the deal with a kiss? Nah, I can't do that. But look at her, she wants you to! Her lips look so soft…she looks so beautiful…_

_RingRingRing…RingRingRing…_

_FUCK!!_

As much as I didn't want to, I broke this mental embrace and looked down at my cell. My heart stopped beating; I could feel my face turning white as I broke in a small, cold sweat. I got up in a half-hearted rush as I said to her sincerely, "Excuse me for a second." Not waiting for any acknowledgement, I walked outside and answered the phone.

It was my boss, Dorian Romeran.

"Kennedy here."

"Kennedy, I apologize for interrupting but there's something you got to see." Said the deep, authoritive voice of Dorian. Just the way he talked, he sounded like he would be in charge of a lot of people. It wasn't charisma that he carried, it the was bass of his voice. "With all due respect sir, I hope this doesn't mean it won't interefer with my vacation." I replied in plain, even voice. Perhaps I did sound a little mad but I tried not to let that get the best of me. Last I need to get chewed out for not showing respect. "No but you need to stop by my office now, no exceptions." Acknowledging the order, I hung up and stuffed my phone in my pocket as I cursed at my boss for ruining my moment with Luci.

Seemingly charging in, I approached her and fixed my furious face with a sincere one, trying to not make her worry. "Sorry to cut this short, but I have to go." Luciana didn't look disappointed but maybe she understood me, being in the line of work I'm in. Who wouldn't, right? But knowing that it must be something important to pull me out of my vacation for a while, it had to be something serious. And honestly, I hate being fed with little information. "I'll take to you later then." She replied. Thinking on more of what my boss needed to show me, I waved bye to her and made my exit, quickly hopping into my jean then driving off at a high-speed. I couldn't help but feel rather rushed in this situation but I wanted to know what could be so important to talk to me about it now! A thought crossed my mind, reflecting on the events of the Raccoon Incident then the final blow to the Umbrella Corp. in Russia but that was all over and done with.

What more could possibly go wrong in this world!?


End file.
